That the current war between Israel and Iran is not simply a conflict between Israelis and Iranians is demonstrated by this commentary from Danielle Mor, the liaison officer of the Israeli immigration authority, the Jewish Agency, with Christian friends worldwide. Danielle's paternal family was part of the Jewish community in Iran for centuries and then immigrated to the newly founded state of Israel. Now, her grandmother, "Safta," prays for the people in both countries.
A commentary by Danielle Mor (Jewish Agency for Israel), translated by Anemone Rüger
My Safta (German: grandmother), a wonderful mother of twelve children, grandmother of 60 grandchildren and great-grandmother of a number of grandchildren she does not wish to disclose, has been crying for Israel for almost two years.
She has lived in a historic house in Jerusalem since 1952. The house has no air-raid shelter. For the past two weeks, my grandmother has been hiding in a windowless room inside the house for a bit more protection—along with her caregiver, a loving Muslim woman from Uzbekistan who speaks Farsi. When the sirens wail, they hug, cry, and pray together.
My Safta weeps for the destruction in Israel, for the 28 lives that have already been lost, including a 94-year-old woman who was rescued from the rubble, and two brothers aged only eight and ten.
My Safta weeps for the many thousands of destroyed houses, for the approximately 1400 injured in the hospitals, for the more than 15,000 internally displaced persons who survived the attacks from Iran but lost their homes and have to rebuild their lives.
My wife is crying for the more than 300,000 reservists who are deployed away from home for the fourth or fifth time in this war.
At the same time, she prays that Iran, the land of her youth, and Tehran, her beautiful hometown with the nearby snow-covered mountains where she once picnicked with her friends, will be freed from the murderous, hateful regime of the Ayatollahs and returned to the hands of the people to whom she still feels connected.
My work at the Israeli immigration authority, the Jewish Agency, the same organization through which my Safta once immigrated from Iran and from which she found her home, always reminds me how strong we are as a people.
While my Safta is crying, we can rise up, perhaps even like lions, to offer comfort and strength and to dry the tears.
